


Chase Into No Man's Land

by flash0flight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, OT3, Winter Soldier Search
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flash0flight/pseuds/flash0flight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve and Natasha go rogue to bring the Winter Soldier in, they were expecting it to be difficult, expecting it to test them. What they weren't expecting, was to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chase Into No Man's Land

**Author's Note:**

> Dumb headcanoned concept based off what little we've seen for Cap 2 so far. I just. Needed the OT3 in my life more okay. Written mostly for, and beta-ed by [Jackie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/girl0nfire)

Sitwell’s mouth is moving, pointless tangles of words leaving his lips and falling like dead weight between them, but Steve isn’t listening. The moment he’d put the pieces together, Steve fell into the past, fell into a world he never thought he’d have again. Fell into a mess of hope and fear and dread and desperation and _guilt_ , so much guilt he doesn’t know what to do with it all.

Natasha’s beside him, and underneath that façade of calm and stability, she looks just about as alarmed as Steve feels – lost, confused, angry, terrified. Steve knows there is more to her story than meets the eye, but there’s another time for that, another place, another world.

They’re being briefed on the Winter Soldier case: a Soviet assassin, highly skilled and lethal in just about every way. There’s a list of jobs in the file, hits the Soldier has taken out, hits that SHIELD _know_ of, but Steve can tell by the expression on Sitwell’s face that there’s more than this. There’s more than SHIELD knows. There _has_ to be more that they haven’t caught yet.

More Steve needs to know. Not wants. _Needs_. Because the Winter Soldier?

It’s Bucky.

“ We’re running more investigations before we send you into the field. “

Everything stops dead; still, thick silence falls between them all for a split second before Natasha bursts into angry argument. And the woman is more furious than Steve has ever seen her, getting into Sitwell’s face and showing no mercy, her hands gesturing in outrage, bright eyes open wide. There’s no way Steve can even try to match her fury, but he has something else up his sleeve.

He has the file already, set on his desk back in his office. SHIELD has no place keeping a file from him now that he’s been briefed on it. All the information he needs is in that file, page after page after page of facts and details and information on what the agency knows about the Winter Soldier. Steve can take what he has, pick up a few bits and pieces here and there that could be useful, and head out.

Captain America is still a free superhero, after all, even if Steve Rogers is roped into the service of SHIELD.

Taking a chance, Steve reaches out to rest a hand on Natasha’s shoulder, and the woman visibly flinches at the physical contact, shocking her out of her rage. She rounds on him, no doubt with every intention to let her frustration out on the soldier, but something changes when she meets Steve’s eyes. Some sort of understanding passes between them, and Steve knows in that moment, if anyone else is to help him with this, it’s going to be Natasha.

He quietly excuses himself and makes his way out of the room, not needing to check to know Natasha’s hot on his heels, stalking after him, a perfect picture of fury. If _this_ is how she reacts to being held back from the investigation, there is no one better to do this with.

To head out on a highly dangerous rogue mission, to bring back the man Steve loves.

\--

Running through the start-up procedures on the quinjet, Natasha can’t help but wonder just what she’s doing here. What she hopes to accomplish. What _Steve_ hopes to accomplish. Natasha’s used to blatantly ignoring the rules, used to marching out into the shadows to do the work she needs to do. She’s done it before and she’d gladly do it again, especially for James Barnes. Hell, he’s one of the few people she’d do something this ridiculous for.

But the idea that Captain America himself had invited her over, away from SHIELD’s prying eyes, and asked _her_ to help him find James, bring him home before the agency could make a mess of this and get someone killed. No matter how many times Natasha plays over the conversation in her mind, she can’t figure out his angle. Can’t figure out for the life of her just what it is Rogers wants.

_“ I need you to help me find him, Natasha. “_

_“ Who are we talking about here, Steve? 52% of the world is made of ‘hims’. “_

_“ Bucky. The Winter Soldier. James goddamn-pain-in-the-ass Barnes. “_

_“ ...Why do you think I would? “_

_“ Because he means as much to you as he does to me. “_

…Maybe a bit of an understatement. Natasha can never, will never, be able to express how much James Barnes means to her. How much he’s _always_ meant to her. James was like summer in Russia’s harshest winters. He was the one reality Natasha had, whatever else was forced into their minds, however they tried to rewrite who she and James were. They had each other, nothing but each other, and it was more than enough for both of them.

When she’d lost him? Her world had fallen apart. Natasha had fallen prey to the Republic, to whatever they desired, whatever whim they had. She let go of Natalia Romanova, abandoning her for Black Widow. It hadn’t hurt to be Black Widow. She’d been a spy – invisible, non-existent. Nothing but a tool for whatever the Republic needed her to be.

Natalia Romanova had been for James, only for James. And no one else had seen her again, not for a long time. And even then, Natalia had faded away into the background, replaced by Natasha. Everything Natalia was, everything she held dear, it was all for James. A whole other life, pages never to be read again, battered and smudged, creased and torn. James had held her whole world in his hands, and he’d treated it like it was the greatest treasure in the world, rather than just another weapon.

So maybe, just _maybe_ , Steve’s a little presumptuous in assuming James means as much to him as he does to Natasha.

Nevertheless, the opportunity to bring the man in on her own terms, with her own hands, careful and caring rather than harsh and unyielding? That’s too important to pass up.

“ All good to go? “ Steve asks as he sets himself down in the co-pilot seat, and it’s strange to have anyone but Clint sitting beside her, helping her run the show. But she’s seen Steve work, seen him handle the quinjet on his own before, and she has more than enough faith in him to know she’d be hard pressed to find a better co-pilot, unless they happened to be a smart-ass archer.

“ Everything’s fine. Better make a move before SHIELD notices we’re stealing government property, “ Natasha answers, somewhat subdued as she takes the controls, going through the procedures for takeoff. They have _one_ window of opportunity to get away before SHIELD comes looking for them, all thanks to Clint’s handiwork and a promised distraction. So they better make it quick.

“ I’d find another way, “ Steve murmurs under his breath as he settles down, sharp eyes flicking back and forth along the controls, taking in anything and everything he can, and that’s how he always has been. On or off the field, Steve isn’t one to miss a single thing. No reason for this to be any different, especially considering how important this seems to be for him.

“ I don’t doubt that, Cap, “ Natasha chuckles, but there’s not much heart behind the sound. Where they’re heading, there’s little space for laughter, for slight moments of amusement. Behind whatever masks they’re wearing, they both hold a sense of dread and anxiety, a fear that they both can’t seem to shake. She can see the signs of it on Steve’s face, in the way he’s set his jaw, the steel look in his eyes.

And chances are, Steve can see it in her, too.

This isn’t going to be easy. Not even a little.

\--

Watching the woman pore over the files on the Winter Soldier is like watching a gambler fidget with his last chips at a poker table. Steve’s memorized those files word for word; Hell, he could probably recite them in his sleep. And with how anxious he’s been lately, he wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly what he’s doing. But Natasha, there’s more on her face, very carefully hidden behind a façade.  More than just a need to know each detail.

Just like Steve, it’s like she’s looking for answers.

Natasha and Bucky have a history, Steve knows, something that came after Bucky’s fall from that train. Whatever he went through, whatever they put him through, Natasha had to have been there. Steve doesn’t know what it was, though; was she a captor? Was she responsible for this and is now trying to make amends? Or was she a victim, just like Bucky?

Trying to find Bucky with what little information they have is more than a challenge… It’s nearly impossible. Sitwell had given them little enough facts to make it hard for them to go rogue, and hacking the SHIELD database from here would just give away their position, something neither of them even want to consider. Instead, they had to settle for taking the jet as far from New York as possible while still staying within their possible search perimeter, leaving it behind in one of Stark’s private hangars, and heading out on foot.

Steve has never felt so desperate and lost at the same time. He’s spent days trying to parse some kind of pattern, some trail they can follow, find a point where they can take a few steps ahead and catch Bucky before he can get away, but it’s not working.

And he wants so _badly_ to find Bucky, to undo all of this, to make it right, to fix what’s been broken as best as he can. To hold him, to kiss away the pain and the doubt and whatever else he’s still carrying seventy years later. To protect him from everything Steve hadn’t been there to protect him from since that fall.

“ Any hits of inspiration? “ Steve asks tiredly as he sets himself down on the worn down couch. Fortunately enough for them, Natasha’s own instincts had led her to set up a fair few safe-houses that SHIELD has no idea about. It’s not overly fancy, no five star apartment, but they’re hidden from SHIELD’s view, they’re out of the way, and they’re safe. Steve’s not complaining; he’s lived in worse, after all.

“ Not a damn thing,“ Natasha sighs, dropping the files back on the table in frustration, and Steve can hear the clear strain in her voice, very carefully hidden but still there. “ James was always too good at what he does. “

There’s a familiarity in her words that strikes Steve, and he can’t help but glance over at Natasha, an eyebrow raised in simple curiosity. But he’s not sure how to ask, not sure how to bring up just what he wants to know, the questions about how they know each other. How _well_ they know each other. Because there’s a fondness there, a sort of comfort in Natasha’s words about Bucky that doesn’t come from just _knowing_ someone, from training or being trained, from working together.

But Steve knows he can’t just _ask_ , and he knows Natasha likely won’t tell.

“ We’ll figure it out. He can’t run forever. “

Steve picks up his own files from the table, shuffling through them for the tenth time today, and he’s not sure what he’s looking for, just that he’s looking for something, _anything_.  A hint, a sign, a possibility, a lead – the smallest fact that could send them in the right direction.

But they’ve got nothing.

“ His running isn’t what worries me. “

The hushed statement almost doesn’t reach him, but Steve hears it, and it surprises him. _Concerns_ him even, that there is more behind this that Natasha hasn’t told him, something that could potentially help.

“ Something you wanna share, Romanoff? “

“ What do you remember about your buddy, Rogers? “

“ Enough to know he’s not gonna hurt me. “

“ Like this, he will. “

Silence falls between them, thick and harsh and packed with questions, with doubts, with fears and confusion, and Steve can’t help but stare at her in disbelief.

He _knows_ Bucky, knows him too well to believe Bucky could ever hurt him. But there’s a conviction in Natasha’s voice that makes him wonder just what he _doesn’t_ know. What Natasha’s seen that isn’t in the files.

“ I won’t let him, “ Steve answers quietly as he turns back to his files, not even a sliver of doubt in his voice. Whatever Bucky might be now, whatever he’s done, whatever he can do, Steve could never let the man hurt him. Not for himself, but for Bucky-- he knows that if Bucky ever, _ever_ brought Steve harm, he would punish himself for the rest of his life.

“ And if you can’t stop him? “ Natasha asks, but even she sounds doubtful.

“ I will. Whatever it takes. “ No matter what, Steve is going to stop Bucky.

He’s going to _save_ Bucky. Like he should have been able to do all those years ago.

\--

“ Can’t sleep? “

Natasha yawns a little as she steps out of the apartment’s single bedroom to see Steve perched at the small table again, pouring over the files. Pages they’ve looked over a hundred times, over and over in between their investigations, between safe houses, on their sleepless nights. It’s been three weeks, and three safe houses, and they’re still no closer than they had been when they left.

And Natasha knows it’s getting under Steve’s skin, because it’s getting under hers, too.

“ Bad dreams. You? “ Steve’s voice sounds _tired_ , thick with exhaustion and stress, worry and fear. And he’s even too exhausted to hide it; they both are. Natasha hates being seen like this, hates being so vulnerable, so damn drained that she’s exposed, but she has no choice, not right now. Sleep brings nightmares, horrible memories of a time she doesn’t want to remember.

Her own screams are still echoing in her mind, the image of James being dragged away burned behind her eyes. She’s going to have her own set of sleepless nights, now.

“ Same. Find anything new? “ She asks as she sets herself down at the table, opposite Steve. The past three weeks have opened up a different view of the soldier, a side of him that’s so human, so _real_ , so different from the picture of Captain America they all see every day. There’s a sense of comfort, of trust building between them, based off a shared need to find someone important to them.

“ Not really. Barton sent some fresh tidbits SHIELD picked up, but it’s something we caught onto last week, so. Useless. “ Steve tosses the file down on the surface and sets his elbows on the tabletop, resting his head in his hands.

“ Where the _hell_ is he, Natasha? “

“ I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out, “ She answers quietly.

It’s painful, seeing Steve’s faith slipping, starting to stretch and crack. He’s always the one with the solid resolve, mind constantly turning to find an alternative, a new path, a way to figure it all out. Always running through tactics and possibilities to try and find _something_. Seeing that slow down, that’s not easy.

“ Yeah-- Yeah. ‘Course we will. Already got the drop on SHIELD, right? “ The man chuckles shakily, raising his head a little to meet Natasha’s gaze. “ Besides, we both know him too well. “

Natasha nods in silence, her mind drifting at Steve’s words. Sure, they both know him well, both know bits and pieces about him that the others don’t, and it’s hard to try and pry that information out of each other when they both seem reluctant to volunteer it. Natasha doesn’t know what there was between Steve and James, doesn’t know where they stand, what she could be interrupting just by being on this rogue mission. Just like, surely, Steve doesn’t know what James is to her. She hasn’t told him, she doesn’t plan to. Not when there’s still so much hidden.

They both know him too well, but neither knows how well the other knows him. And Natasha can’t help but worry that that’s going to get in the way.

“ Think you’re gonna manage some sleep? “ She asks softly, watching Steve with sharp eyes, and she doesn’t miss the moment of hesitation, the slight flinch at the idea of sleep, and Natasha understands that. Nightmares are never fun to go back to.

“ Probably not. I’ll be fine for a few more days. “ Steve shrugs and drops his hands to the table, avoiding Natasha’s eyes, and there’s something in that vulnerability, in that masked stress that makes Natasha reach out, take one of Steve’s hands in her own. And her touch is hesitant, careful, full of her own doubt, but she still maintains a gentle hold of his hand.

“ The ever-working Captain, right? “ The joke leaves her with a surprising ease, and it’s a relief to see it spark a hint of a smile on Steve’s face.

“ Someone’s gotta do it. “ Steve gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, finally meeting her eyes, and it strikes her again how _worn_ he really is. How much sleep he needs. The serum keeps him going though, keeps him active and alert as much as it can, and Natasha knows how that works, even if her own enhancements aren’t quite as perfected as Steve’s.

But they’re both still human. They still need to sleep, at some point. They can only run away from their nightmares for so long.

“ Well, don’t blame me when you fall asleep out here. “

“ Wouldn’t dream of it, Romanoff. “

\--

“ They’re gonna find us, “ Steve murmurs as they step onto an escalator, fingers twined together in the lightest of touches. They’d been out following a possible lead when someone who looked distinctly SHIELD-affiliated had caught sight of them. If they weren’t dressed for undercover work, they probably would have been made by now.

Thankfully, the hood of Natasha’s sweater covers her distinct hair, and there’s a cap and glasses to hide the most prominent of Steve’s features. All they can really do now is keep moving, look as normal as possible, and get out as soon as they can.

“ They’re not gonna find us, relax, “ Natasha answers lowly as she turns to face him, her height very much dwarfed by Steve’s, considering he’s on a higher step and he’s already ridiculously tall as it is. He raises an eyebrow at her, bright eyes looking concerned through the lenses of the fake glasses, and Natasha resists the urge to laugh.

“ They’re tailing us, Natasha. “ Steve leans a little closer as he glances around, and he knows it’s probably a little too obvious, but he doesn’t like this. Sneaking away from agents like they’re not doing the right thing. Like they’re not trying to save lives just like SHIELD.

Only difference is they want to save Bucky’s life, too. Something SHIELD doesn’t seem to be so concerned about.

“ I know, but it’s fine we can-- _shit_. C’mere, “ Natasha hisses suddenly, taking Steve’s face in her hands and yanking him back toward her, and there’s a tenderness in her expression as she searches his eyes that Steve can’t place for a moment. It takes him by surprise, sparks something unexpected in his heart, and he’s completely unprepared for what happens next, his mind already reeling.

Then Natasha stretches up, pulling Steve down to meet her, their lips meeting, and Steve’s mind stops functioning altogether. Without a single sense of conscious decision, Steve reaches out to rest his hands on Natasha’s waist, pulling her a little closer and leaning down a little further, locking their lips together a little more securely. And in his mind, Steve knows it’s a cover, _knows_ it’s just a matter of convincing whoever’s following them that they’re not the people SHIELD’s looking for, but he also feels _something_ , something warm and steady and constant in this kiss, in the way Natasha’s fingers are so carefully stroking at his cheek, soft and careful, full of reassurance.

And sure, maybe she’s going to hit him for all of this later, but Steve finds that’s a chance he’s willing to take.

Natasha finally breaks away, her cheeks a little pink and her eyes a little glazed. They step off the escalator in sync, walking together and drifting away from the crowd, setting themselves down on a bench, out of the way. And they both take a moment to glance around, to ensure no agents are close, no one’s paying any particular attention to them, that they’re free for the moment, at least. It probably won’t be long before they need to make themselves scarce, but right now, they have a moment to themselves.

Probably good, considering Steve’s still feeling a little dazed.

“ That was, uh-- “ He stumbles over his words for a beat, trying to figure out just what that was, beyond a move to divert attention away from themselves. He knows it likely meant next to nothing to Natasha, that it was just a cover, part of the job. He knows getting hung up on it is stupid-- they’re on a mission to _save Bucky_ , nothing else. And that comes first, before everything else. Before anything Steve thinks he might possibly be feeling.

But he still can’t deny he’s feeling _something_.

“ A cover, right? “ Natasha asks him, but she’s biting her lip, and there’s the slightest glint of doubt in her brilliant green eyes.

“ Well… yes, technically, “ Steve answers, clearing his throat. Natasha’s a friend, a coworker, a teammate Steve knows he can trust, and he knows it should stay that way. And yet...

“ Is that... all? For you? “

She doesn’t answer, silence falling between them again, disturbed only by the bustle of the crowd surrounding them. And Steve can feel a rising anxiety, wishing he’d left it alone. Left it as something simple, something that didn’t throw a spanner in the works of this already difficult mission. The last thing they need is to make this more difficult, and yet his dumb, ridiculous honesty has done just that.

_Smart move, Rogers._

“ No. “

What? _What_?

Steve’s eyes snap back to Natasha, full of surprise and hope, more hope than he’d realised. And it’s been a long time since he’s felt anything remotely close to this, since Steve has felt something for someone that could possibly mean _anything_ beyond that of a team, since he’s had a warm spark in his chest, one that could turn into a flame, something comforting, something that could burn bright enough to drive away the dark in his heart.

And he doesn’t know _what_ it is about her; he doesn’t know what Natasha does that brings this out in him. He’s not sure if it’s the way she so carefully handles Bucky’s files, the sweet tone her voice takes when she talks about him, the way she sits by Steve’s side when he’s digging through information for a lead, the way she holds his hand to steady him when he starts to fall into doubt, or the way she’s just _there_ when his own resolve starts to slip, reminding him what they’re fighting for.

Steve has no idea _what_ it is. But he wants to find out, if she’ll let him.

“ We… should move. Head back and move on before they can catch us, “ Steve tells her gently, reaching for her hand. And when she doesn’t move out of his reach, when she doesn’t flinch away, Steve takes her hand, hesitantly tangling their fingers together. Natasha answers with a gentle squeeze, and Steve knows then that he’s not about to get socked on the jaw.

Well, not yet.

Natasha nods, pushing herself to her feet, her hand still holding firmly onto Steve’s. He follows, a small smile curling the corners of his lips, and together they step forward into the crowd, staying close and keeping their heads down, looking for a way out, a way to get back to safety together.

\--

“ Nat? “

The hushed voice breaks through whatever daze Natasha’s in, and she abandons the idea of sleep instantly. Not that she was having much luck with it to begin with, but the broken sound of Steve’s voice is enough to make her let it go entirely. She sits up on the bed, rubbing her eyes as they adjust to the darkness, rewarding her with the sight of Steve hovering in the doorway, about ready to drop.

“ Still can’t sleep? “ She asks gently, waving for him to come closer, and it’s impossible to miss the relief that floods his features as Steve moves into the room. He’s been valiantly insisting on sleeping on the couch of every safe house and motel they stay in, no matter how much Natasha insists she’s fine trading.

Or sharing.

Ever since their frantic mall trip, Natasha and Steve have been edging closer, falling more familiar with each other, learning how they each work beyond Black Widow and Captain America. And there’s a side to Steve, a real gentle sense of humanity, strong and unparalleled, that makes Natasha want to know more, want to pull more of that sweet man out into the open, rather than the strong soldier everyone else sees.

Still, Steve has been the perfect gentleman. Well, until creeping into her bedroom in the middle of the night and hissing her name in hopes that she’s awake.

“ Doesn’t seem like you’re having any luck, either, “ He answers hoarsely, dropping himself onto the edge of the bed, and Natasha simply shrugs. There’s no point in either of them trying to hide it, they both know the truth by now. Both notice the way the other sags under the weight of their exhaustion, how hard it is to get those few hours of sleep that can keep them running for days.

Natasha knows she shouldn’t, knows they should keep their distance, keep themselves from getting distracted. They’re getting closer, picking up leads, miles ahead of SHIELD. They need to focus. And yet, she can’t help the urge to move forward, to kneel behind Steve and rub her hands along his shoulders, fingers easing the knots away, nudging the tension out of his body. Natasha has no doubt it’ll all be back in the morning, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to take it away right now. It doesn’t stop her from pressing her lips to the back of Steve’s neck, pausing for some kind of sign that she’s not crossing any lines.

Steve tenses for a moment, but then he makes the slightest sound in the back of his throat, full of relief, and Natasha takes that as her signal, dropping a few more gentle kisses on his skin. None of them are insistent, none of them asking for anything, nothing more than soft reassurances and gentle distractions. Steve catches one of her hands, turning to face her, and his expression is heavy, exhausted, pained, but something gentle shines through. A sort of gratitude, a very slight sense of peace.

It’s easy to move into his grasp when Steve pulls her closer, an arm slipping around her waist as their lips meet, and it’s as careful and gentle as every other kiss, no insistence but more of a promise, sweet and settled, one constant in this upside-down hell of a mission.

“ Still don’t wanna share? “ She mumbles softly against his lips, earning a small chuckle from Steve, deep and genuine. And she won’t admit it, but Natasha is fast falling for that sound, warm and safe and _Steve_.

“ I think I can make an exception, “ Steve answers, and before either of them really register moving, they’re settling beneath the covers, ignoring the scratchy sheets and the lumpy mattress as Natasha curls her back against Steve’s chest. And it’s so calm like this, so easy to focus on the warmth, the safe solidity of Steve’s body, the way his chest rises and falls against her back with his breaths, the way he lies so close to her, an arm curled protectively around her waist. It’s easy to close her eyes, to find herself less terrified of the images in her own subconscious, less alarmed by the idea of facing them again. And maybe it’s the same for Steve. It feels like it, with the way his body is relaxing against hers, tense muscles falling slowly loose.

Maybe, this is okay. Maybe, Natasha isn’t doing the wrong thing. In the back of her mind, she knows she needs to tell Steve the truth. He needs to know what James is to her, what he means to her.

But there’s a time and a place, and it’s not now, it’s not here.

Steve presses a few lazy kisses to the curve of Natasha’s shoulder before nestling his head close to hers, and for a moment she considers asking him how he’s going to sleep with her hair tickling his skin, but he seems to be about as settled as she is. So she leaves it, leaves him to sleep, lets _herself_ sleep, wrapped up so safe and snug in the arms of a man she never thought she could trust as much as she does in this moment.

\--

It’s been a month and a half since they left, and the last thing Steve had imagined was that he’d be lying in a bed in some overlooked backwater motel, his arms and legs tangled so comfortably with Natasha’s, and she would be whispering secrets to him that she has never told anyone.

All of this had started with a question, a single, simple question. Clint had sent them some fresh files from SHIELD, and one of them included an image of Bucky. Or, more specifically, of the Winter Soldier. Steve’s blood had turned cold at the sight, his stomach tightening unpleasantly, but Natasha had been struck still. Shocked, alarmed, scared, panicked, Steve hadn’t been sure which. It had taken so much coaxing just to take the tablet from her hands, to peel her away from it, away from the files, away from everything. To set her down on the bed, kneel down in front of her and take her hands, and ask her very gently, “ What is it, Natasha? “

That had been _two hours_ ago. From there, the two had curled up, Natasha desperately looking for something stable to hold onto before she spilled her heart out, and Steve, more than happy to give her just that, had listened.

Listened to Natasha tell him about her training, about the Red Room, about just what the Soviets had done to her, to _Bucky_. How Bucky had trained her, first with a group, then moving to one-on-one. How Bucky’d taught her so much, taught her not only how to be a killer, but also how to protect herself, from everything.

How they’d fallen in love, the only sure thing either of them had in a world of shadows and mysteries and deception. And Steve isn’t all that surprised, really. Not with the fondness in Natasha’s tone when she speaks of him, not with the way she seems to drift off for a moment each time, disappearing into her own world. Now Steve knows that’s a world where she’d never lost him to begin with.

“ I never... thought I’d see him again, Steve. And then when Sitwell gave us that report... “ Natasha sighs and sets her head down on her pillow, eyes closed for a moment as she lets Steve ponder everything. And with the way she’s avoiding his gaze, the way she’s not moving any closer, not seeking any kind of comfort, Steve wonders just how she’s expecting him to react to this. Does she think he’s going to be mad, or upset? As though somehow this could change a single thing, change who she is, or the fact that Steve is falling for her harder than he ever expected? That there is this whole other side to Natasha that most of the world will never see, that she’s letting him explore without hesitation?

“ You still love him, don’t you? “ Steve asks simply, his voice level, calm. He knows the answer, even before Natasha nods her head, her eyes still closed tight. And he’s not upset, he’s not mad, he’s not even surprised. Instead, Steve moves forward, pressing his lips to Natasha’s forehead, and he doesn’t move until her body relaxes, the shock at his reaction wearing off. When he finally does pull back, Natasha has her eyes open wide, full of surprise, of confusion.

“ So do I, Tasha. Bucky was… the first person I ever loved. And the only person, until-- well, now. “

“ What-- Steve, you-- what? “

Well that’s no small feat, rendering the great Black Widow speechless, and Steve knows how rare this is, how hard it is to catch Natasha off her guard, to truly shock her like this. He simply laughs a little shakily and rests his forehead against hers, close and safe and surer than he’s been in a long time.

“ Not gonna make me repeat myself, are you? M’an old man, Tasha. Can’t remember things like I used to. “ Steve offers a small joke to take the edge off- and it works. Natasha’s laugh rings out between them, a little unstable and a little cracked, but still soft and sweet, almost musical.

“ I guess I can make an exception, then, “ Natasha’s throws back without blinking an eye, before she moves forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“ You really... you mean that, don’t you. About me? “

“ ‘Course I do. Natasha, you’re… unbelievable, you’re so much _more_ than anyone could possibly imagine. I’m not surprised Bucky fell for you. He’s got fantastic taste. “ Steve answers with pure honesty, and he means every word. He hadn’t expected to see this, to find out just how utterly wonderful every layer of Natasha is. Beneath the SHIELD spy exterior, beneath the carefully crafted masks and acts, there’s someone so uniquely astonishing, someone Steve would be happy spending all his time getting to know, down to her very core. If she let him, that is.

“  You know I’m... the same. About you. Steve, you-- not just because of the golden boy deal, not because you’re Captain America. You’re... a whole other person under that mask, someone who’s sweet and strong and _good_ , just for the sake of it, “ Natasha murmurs as she shifts forward, tucking her head under Steve’s chin and pressing the words into his skin, and Steve can feel the warmth of her breath, hear the honesty in her words, and it warms him down to the very center of his heart.

“ I’m no good for you, y’know. “

“ I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, Tasha, “ Steve assures her, dropping kisses into her hair.

“ Yes, you would, but that’s not the point. “

He can feel her grin against his throat, and rather than pulling away Natasha moves closer, her body fitting so perfectly against Steve’s, and he doesn’t hesitate to tighten his arms around her.

“ You mean it? You... love me? “

“ Yeah, “ Steve leans his head back a little, moving to tilt her chin up to meet her eyes. “ I love you, Natasha. “

“ And I, “ Natasha pauses to press her lips to Steve’s, a soft, lingering kiss that leaves him a little breathless, “ Love you, Steve. “

“ And... Bucky? “

Steve bites his lip a little anxiously, the thought ghosting into his mind as to how this is going to work if – _when_ they find Bucky and bring him home.

“ We’ll… figure that out when we get to it. Don’t overthink, Captain. “

Natasha tucks her head under his chin again, wriggling a little closer, and Steve can’t help but smile.

“ Yes, ma’am. “

\--

“ Relax, Tasha. We’re almost there. “

The murmurs are almost lost against her skin as Steve presses kisses to her shoulders, slowly moving down her spine. Natasha knows he’s right, knows they’re close, _really_ close to finding James, closing in on him fast. But somehow, the closer they get the harder it is, the more she just wants this to be _over_. The more she just wants to find James and take him home.

Her sharp eyes move over the files that are spread out on the pillows, leaning on her elbows as Steve does his best to calm her down. And she has no idea how he does it, how he manages to keep his head when James is so damn _close_ but still just out of reach. How he still has hope when they’ve been at this for _weeks_.

When the first sign they’ve had that this hasn’t all been for nothing had only come up a day ago.

He’s right, though. As always, Steve is right. They’re close. And the closer they get, the harder it is for Natasha to let go. The later she stays up, the tenser she gets, the more she pores over the files they’ve already gone over a hundred times.

“ I know, I know. I’m over-thinking, overreacting, pushing way too hard, “ Natasha answers a little absently, her eyes scanning a page steadily, trying to focus despite the gentle kisses Steve is littering along her skin, so carefully, so sweetly, and Natasha can almost feel the tension seeping out of her muscles bit by bit.

She’s sure that later, when Steve calms down and dozes off a little, Natasha will find the same tension in his body. But they have time, for now. They can’t make a move on James yet, so they have time.

“ We’re gonna bring him home, okay? I swear it, “ Steve murmurs as he buries his face in her hair, his body pressed warm against Natasha’s back, and she can’t help but arch against him. There’s something about the way Steve holds her that makes her feel secure, protected, _safe_.  And safe isn’t something Natasha has felt in a long, long time.

“ Well, if you swear it, I guess I have _no choice_ but to believe you. “

Natasha’s voice holds a tone of amusement, but she _does_ believe him. It’s hard not to.

“ I’m a man of my word, you know,“ Steve chuckles as he presses a kiss into her hair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on her skin. And it’s just so _easy_ to relax against him, to let him take away the worst of her stress, ease the harshest of her worries, and Natasha’s not sure she’s willing to give that up.

“ Steve, what... are we going to do? “ She asks carefully, and she can feel Steve tense against her, waiting for an explanation. “ About this? About – us? “

Silence falls around the two of them for a moment, and Natasha’s mind is reeling as she tries not to overreact, tells herself she hasn’t just ruined this. Hasn’t screwed up the best thing to happen to her since… James.

“ What exactly do you mean? “ He asks slowly, doing his best to mask the slight shake in his voice.

“ Well, when... we find him, when we sort this out and get him home... “ Natasha sighs and shifts, rolling onto her side to face Steve, the sheets gathering around her body. And she can’t help the twist in her chest at the sight of his frown, furrowing his forehead as he tries to process what she’s saying.

“ You still love him, don’t you? “

“ I-- yeah, I do. But I also love you, Natasha. “

“ I know, and you know I love him. But... where does that leave us? “

Natasha isn’t sure what she’s expecting out of this. They haven’t even gotten James back yet, haven’t even remotely addressed the Red Room programming that _makes_ him the Winter Soldier, makes him everything they both know he’s not. They don’t even know for sure that it _can_ be reversed, that Natasha will even see the man she caught glimpses of, fell in love with, again. The man that Steve had known throughout his childhood, grew up with, fought in the war with.

And yet, she’s worried about what comes after all these ‘what ifs’.

“ That leaves us... with what we have. “

Steve finally settles on an answer, and his tone is much stronger now, steadier, like a solid heartbeat, like a warm breeze washing over her, and Natasha wants to believe it. More than she realised she would.

“ We have this, now. We have each other. And when we’ve brought Bucky home, when he’s _Bucky_ again, we’ll figure out what comes next. But whatever happens, Natasha, we have this now. You have me, and I have you. I’m not just gonna leave you behind. “

Believing Steve is easy. It’s always been easy. From the moment they started fighting side by side, Natasha’s always found it easy to believe him, to follow his orders, to put her faith in him. To trust him enough to take this chance to know him more than most people do, to see the sides of him that most people don’t even bother to consider.

And it’s easy to believe him when he says he won’t leave. Even though no one has before, even though the only person who made her feel like they _would_ stay if they could was James, Natasha _still_ believes Steve will.

Even when all her instincts tells her she shouldn’t.

“ I guess I’m just getting ahead of myself, huh? “

Natasha sighs and lets his words sink in, lets them settle in her head, in her heart.

“ You’re just being logical. One thing you’ve always been good at. “

Steve smiles, the creases in his forehead slowly fading away, and she feels him pull her closer, holding her as though he’s desperate to shield her from the world. Even though he knows she’s already faced the worst of the world before, and likely will face it again.

Still, it’s nice, to have someone so desperate to keep her safe, even when he knows she’s perfectly capable of doing so herself.

Giving into temptation, Natasha settles against him, their bodies fitting together as they always do, her smaller frame folded so carefully against his, curled up in his arms. And even as her eyelids start to droop, she can feel Steve moving carefully, gathering the files together and setting them down on the bedside table, out of the way, before his fingers wind into her hair, moving in soothing strokes that steadily guide her to sleep.

\--

It’s almost painful, seeing Bucky like this.

Finding him had been hard enough. Fighting him had been like tearing out his own heart and serving it on a silver platter for the Winter Soldier to destroy. But _this_ , this is making Steve’s head ache, making his chest feel tight, making his hands unsteady.

He’d rather hurl himself off the quinjet then stand guard over Bucky’s unconscious, restrained body.

Yet, they can’t hold him any other way. As he is, his mind so fragmented and confused, Bucky would try to attack them if he were awake, and they don’t have a proper holding cell on the quinjet. The restraints were necessary, a precaution in case his tranquilizers wore off before they arrive in New York, which is unlikely but... better safe than sorry. But that doesn’t ease the painful twist of guilt and misery in Steve’s stomach, the dull ache he feels in his chest at the thought of the man he’s loved for so many years lying _right in front of him_ , and he can’t so much as talk to him let alone hold him, kiss him, try to comfort him.

And this is Steve’s fault, all of it - his responsibility, his shortcomings and failures. In the end, the fact that Bucky is lying on this table, dosed up on tranquilizers, unable to so much as remember Steve’s face beyond believing he’s a target, is because Steve couldn’t protect him.

Bucky’s dead to the world right now, but Steve can still see him falling, hear him screaming, the sound echoing in his mind, and he has to close his eyes, shaking his head viciously to rid himself of the image.

It’ll come back, though. It always does.

_‘ Everything all right back there? ‘_

Natasha’s voice crackles over Steve’s comm device, careful and concerned. She’d been just as shocked as Steve, just as alarmed and surprised by the fight Bucky put up, and in the end, the only reason they’d even had a shot to take him out was because Bucky recognized _Natasha_ , stopped fighting for her sake, giving Steve a chance to knock him out cold.

He remembered _her_ , remembered what they had together. She’s still something Bucky treasures.

But Steve? Steve’s a long-forgotten memory, distorted and twisted and erased. And maybe that’s what he deserves.

“ Everything’s fine. Are we on schedule? “ Steve answers steadily as he opens his eyes again, settling his gaze back on Bucky, ignoring the sharp ache in his chest.

_‘ Yeah, we’ll be back home soon. Then we can sort this mess out. ‘_

There’s a sort of anxiety in Natasha’s voice, tight and tense and painful for Steve to hear, and he knows exactly what it is. Seeing Bucky like this, so broken, so far gone, it’s hard on them both. Steve’s mind is plagued with fears and doubts – What if they never see _Bucky_ again, the way he was, the way he’d always been? What if SHIELD can’t deprogram him, can’t rid him of the control the Soviets had put him under so long ago?

What if this… is it? What if this is all they have left?

All they can really do is take him back to SHIELD, and pray the agency can make some kind of a difference. Pray they both can once again have the man they’ve loved for so long.

\--

Natasha’s not even sure when she’d slept last.

It’s entirely possible that she had dozed here and there the night after she and Steve had brought James home. Convincing Fury had been easy enough; the man had even conveniently overlooked the fact that they’d stolen government property because they’d brought in the Winter Soldier. Persuading him to put SHIELD’s doctors and scientists to breaking the programming had been somewhat easy, too. Knowing they’d at least _try_ to bring back the James she knows, the James _Steve_ knows, Natasha had settled in Steve’s arms that first night, curled up in his office. Neither wanted to even leave the building, to even think of leaving James behind, but they needed the time to themselves.

Natasha had gotten an hour of sleep then, maybe two. Though she’s still sure that Steve had stayed awake through the night, holding her through her restless slumber, waiting for news.

It’s been four days since then, and Natasha hasn’t slept since. Her days have been mirrors of each other, watching over James’ treatment in anxious silence with Steve standing by her side, holding onto her hand as the time slowly ticks by. The two of them never missed a moment of it, never arrived late or left early, never giving anything the chance to slip by them. If they were going to get James back, they needed to know it was being done right.

“ Something’s gotta give, Tasha. “

Steve’s murmur catches her by surprise, and Natasha tears her eyes away from the sight of the procedure to glance up at him, a little too dazed to fully register what he means. He’s still watching on, eyes wide, transfixed as SHIELD scientists try to make James’ mind what it was before.

“ You haven’t slept since we got back, not really. You’re good, but you’re not that good. “

“ M’fine, leave it, “ She answers, a little sharper than she’d intended, but it catches Steve’s attention away from James for a just a moment, surprise written across the lines of strain on his face.

“ I’m sorry, I just-- I can’t. I can’t sleep, Steve. “

“ I know, but you have to _try_ , “ Steve sighs, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, and the closer he is, the more aware Natasha is of his warmth, the reassuring solidity that kept her going the whole time they hunted James down.

“ Look, they’re giving this whole deal a rest tonight, they don’t… want to work his mind too hard. Let’s go home, get some rest. Fury gave me his word they wouldn’t start up again until we get back tomorrow. “

“ Steve, SHIELD isn’t really well-known for keeping promises. “

“ Fury owes me a favor. He’ll keep his word. “

Natasha sighs with a hint of frustration, her gaze turning back to the scene before her, but she _is_ running on empty. Watching this day-in and day-out, watching as the scientists practically toy with James’ brain – it’s painful, taking everything out of her and giving her nothing back. And while they swear they’re making progress, _baby steps_ , it’s not enough.

It could take a month, she knows. Maybe longer, with how deeply ingrained the programming is. Even Steve can’t stay awake that long, not like this.

“ Alright. But you’ve got to sleep too. “

“ Natasha-- “

“ Don’t. Don’t pretend you’re not as tired as I am.  That serum doesn’t protect you as much as you want me to think it does, Steve. Not from something like _this_. “

Natasha gestures tiredly towards the procedure room, to the sight of James unconscious on a table while they slowly work away on his mind. It’s not physically taxing, watching this, but it’s draining them both mentally, she can see it reflected in Steve’s eyes when he looks at her.

He’s right. Something’s got to give.

\--

“ I’m not going in there without you. “

She’s too stubborn. Steve’s always known it. But _this_ is too far.

“ Natasha, he’s not going to hurt you. “ Steve starts to explain, desperate to change her mind. They need to know Bucky still remembers something, still remembers _Natasha_. She’s the one who made him stop, who gave them a chance to even catch him, to bring him home. She’s the only reason Bucky’s here right now.

If he’s going to remember anyone, it’ll be her.

“ _I know that_. I’m not worried about him _hurting_ me, “ Natasha huffs as she crosses her arms, sharp eyes piercing right through Steve, and he knows she’s used to people withering beneath that glare, but Steve just shakes his head. He’s seen it, and worse, a hundred times before.

“ All the more reason you should want to go in there, “ He argues carefully. Steve doesn’t get it. There’s no reason for her _not_ to want to go in there, to make sure Bucky still knows her face, remembers her name.

“ You’re right. But I’m not going in there without you, Steve. “

“ Why? What difference does it make? “

“ I want him to remember _you_ , too. “

Silence falls suddenly between them, and for the briefest moment Steve can feel his chest constrict, almost like it used to before the serum, when the asthma still plagued him and he had to be overcautious at all times, never pushing himself too hard, always avoiding giving himself an attack.

And he can still remember the way Bucky would nurse him through those attacks, working so hard to get him breathing again; his gentle hands rubbing at Steve’s back and chest, holding him close and helping him feel safe, helping him take a damn breath that didn’t feel as though he was inhaling smoke rather than air.

Right now, they’re not even sure Bucky remembers _any_ of that, remembers anything beyond the flag Steve wears and the fact that, once upon a time, he was programmed to try and kill Captain America.

Maybe he still is.

“ I can’t, Tasha. I can’t risk that. If he’s not-- “ Steve begins, but Natasha throws up her hands in frustration, cutting his words off with her own.

“ It’s been a month, Steve! He’s clean, he has to be, he’s _not_ going to attack you. You’re coming into that damn room with me even if I have to drag you in myself! “

And she would do it, Steve knows. If anything, that’s what makes him smile, a little shaky and a lot doubtful, but a smile nonetheless. He reaches out towards her, hands trembling a little, and it takes a few moments but Natasha settles, moving forward to take his hands.

“ I’m not going in there if it means leaving you behind, Steve. “

Steve sighs as he draws her closer, resting his cheek on the top of her head as his arms wrap around her.

“ You two would be happy, y’know. If he remembered you, but not me. He’d make you happy. “

And he’d miss this, he realises, if Bucky and Natasha fell back into whatever they had before, if they _did_ leave him behind. But not for one moment would Steve blame them for it if they did. Not when he knows they’d make each other so happy.

But… he’d miss them both. He knows it.

“ _You_ make me happy. “

The murmur is almost lost against his throat, but Steve hears it, soft and gentle and more honest than anything Natasha’s ever said to him, besides maybe that she loves him.

She _loves_ him, and she wants to try and make this work, with all three of them.

And if anyone’s worth that chance, it’s Natasha.

“ Don’t hurt him if he lashes out at me, alright? It’s not-- his fault. “ Steve pulls back a little, arms moving to rest on Natasha’s shoulders, his grip a little tight. Safe to say, he’s more than nervous about this… About _all_ of this.

“ I’m not gonna let him hurt you, Steve. He’d never forgive himself. “

And they both know how true that is. They both know how Bucky is, how he shoulders the weight of so much guilt that isn’t his. How he likely will, forever, after all of this.

Here’s hoping he won’t have one more thing to add to that list of imagined sins.

\--

James’ eyes light up the moment Natasha enters the room; she sees it, sees the life start to seep into his expression again, real and genuine and she _never_ thought he’d be so happy to see her again, not after so long. Hell, she never even thought she _would_ see him again. Not when she’d been so sure they’d killed him to punish her.

But he’s _here_ , he’s right in front of her, and he’s alive. And for a moment she forgets that Steve is waiting outside for a sign that he can come in.

“ Natalia. “

The old name rolls off James’ tongue like no time has passed, like his whole world still moves solely around her, like she’s all he needs, and she feels a twinge of guilt in her heart. Steve’s watching, waiting for a signal, and the last thing she wants is for Steve to think that this is all over before they can even see each other.

“ Natasha now, actually, “ She corrects pointlessly, hovering by his bedside, awkward and unsure of what to do, what to say.  Not knowing how much he remembers… how much he’s forgotten.

“ Natasha... right. They mentioned – I asked about you the other day, after the final procedures. They… said something about that. “

Bucky slumps back against his pillows, a nervous smile ghosting over his lips, a hand twitching towards her absently.

“ You’ve... been here the whole time? With SHIELD? “

“ No – it’s… a long story. “

One they’ll have time for, _plenty_ of time, she realises, relief flooding through her body as it becomes more clear that James _remembers_ , even more than she’d thought he would. It’s enough, _more_ than enough for them to chance what they had before.

So, after another moment of hesitation, she reaches out for James’ right hand, and it’s so comforting to find that their fingers still tangle so easily together, his calloused fingers twisted around hers with the utmost care. Not because he believes she’s fragile, but because he believes she’s _valuable_. Something she never really understood, except when she was with him.

…Or with Steve.

“ There’s... how much do you remember, James? “ She asks carefully, a frown creasing her forehead as she watches him, waiting. He seems to consider the question for a moment, a little confused, so she clarifies, “ From when we found you? “

“ You... you were there, I remember… Your hair, your eyes… You were so _beautiful_ , you always were. “

The words roll off James’ tongue like it was yesterday, so familiar and sweet and so very _him_ in the unbridled honesty that she can’t help but squeeze his hand.

“ You, and... and... Steve. _Steve_. He-- Where is he, _god_ , he should-- Why isn’t he-- “

“ M’right here, Bucky. “

Steve’s voice sounds from the door, rough and low and not as steady as it should be, but it’s there, _he’s_ there, and Natasha feels James’ hand tense in hers. Steve doesn’t move any closer, staying by the door to be on the safe side, his face set in lines of grim determination as he meets Bucky’s eyes, and Natasha can practically see the missed decades unfolding between them, see the ache and the misery sparking in Steve’s eyes, the shock and realization dawning in James’.

“ Steve? _Steve –_ “

James sounds almost breathless, shocked and dazed and god knows what else as the two just _watch_ each other, somehow wading through the years they missed, all the time they could have spent together and never had the chance, and it’s almost as if Natasha’s intruding on something painfully raw and intimate, watching the two of them like this.

\--

Every fiber of Steve’s body wants to move closer; he’s aching to just _hold_ Bucky again, to feel him, to drop kisses all over his face, his neck, his hair, tell him that he loves him, tell him how much he’s _missed_ him.  Steve’s never been more sure of _anything_ than he is of how much he’s missed Bucky, how much everything within him has _ached_ since he lost him. But Steve’s frozen in time again, watching the emotions play across Bucky’s face, waiting for some sort of sign that this is okay, that _Bucky’s_ okay. That Steve can be here.

Bucky’s whispering his name like a mantra, eyes fixed on him like he’s seeing him for the first time, and Steve still can’t move, feeling out of place with the way Bucky and Natasha are holding hands, with the way Bucky’d looked at her when she’d walked in, and for a moment Steve just considers apologizing, backing out and _running_ because how can Bucky _possibly_ want him anymore when he has someone like Natasha?

But against all reason, he glances up at the woman to find she’s watching him carefully, sharp eyes sending him a clear message:

 _Don’t you dare run_.

 _Damnit._ How she got to know him so well in such a short amount of time is entirely beyond Steve.

“ Hey, Buck, “ Steve offers weakly to break the dim silence beneath Bucky’s murmuring, but it stops the instant Steve speaks. And for the first time, Steve’s utterly terrified because he can’t _read_ this, can’t tell what the shock in Bucky’s eyes means, can’t tell what the lines in his face are trying to say. He can’t read Bucky, not after so long, not when he can’t tell whether he’s looking at Bucky or the Winter Soldier-- and it _kills_ him, not knowing, not being able to figure it out.

Bucky just stares silently at him, seconds passing into minutes as the quiet of the room stretches out, and Steve’s never wanted to run so much in his life, so sure that this was all a huge mistake, so sure he should have stayed out of it, left Bucky and Natasha to pick things up again, be happy again, have that chance together.

But then everything happens at once, a flurry of sheets being tossed aside and Bucky stumbling across the room before Natasha can stop him, and Steve can see it in slow motion, see Bucky’s new arm reaching out to grab him by the throat, to crush his windpipe or snap his neck, and after how many times Steve failed to save him it’s probably what he deserves.

…But the pain never comes.

Steve staggers a little when Bucky’s body collides with his, arms wrapping around him more tightly than Steve remembers, but he holds himself steady, gaping in disbelief as Bucky hauls him close, pressing against him until there’s almost no space left, and then he’s mumbling again, words spilling endless against Steve’s skin, jumbled and incomprehensible, full of shock and surprise and _relief_.

And before he knows it, Steve is laughing, unsteady and a little hysterical because _is this really happening_ , is Bucky really holding onto him for dear life as though he’s done nothing but _miss Steve_ for years? It takes a few moments for everything to register, for Steve to finally move his own arms, wrapping them around Bucky’s waist – and it shouldn’t be _possible_ , that they still _fit_ together so damn well after all these years.

“ Bucky – “

Steve doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know if there’s anything else _to_ say, relief and ridiculous joy starting to flood through his system, pushing away the panic and the anxiety and the need to run, the desperate need to hide away. Instead, he presses kisses into Bucky’s hair, rubbing gentle circles into his back and holding him flush against his own body, finally letting himself feel how much he’s missed this, how much he’s missed _Bucky_.

After a few minutes, Steve looks up and meets Natasha’s eyes to find her smiling – but there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes, too, that breaks Steve’s heart, and he reaches out to her, beckoning her closer. And thank goodness he’s standing in front of the door, so now _she_ can’t run, either. He watches her hesitate for a moment, watches her decide whether or not it’s her place to step any closer before she moves towards them both, a little confused.

Steve doesn’t speak, doesn’t utter a word; he just takes her hand and draws her in, and almost automatically Bucky shifts to make room for her, the three of them winding arms around each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And Steve can’t help but think that _this_?

This is definitely something he could get used to.

\--

“ So – you two...? “

Natasha and Steve nod in unison, both sporting goofy smiles on their faces, and Steve can’t help but wonder how exactly he got into this sort of situation. He never thought he’d find _one_ person as remotely amazing as either of them – but now he’s found them _both_ , and they both love him, just as much as they love each other. Sure it’s not – conventional, but since when is _anything_ they do conventional?

Shaking his head, Bucky goes back to packing up what few personal effects he has, but Steve can see the small grin playing on his face, and it gives him a spark of hope that _maybe_ there’s a chance at this. Maybe.

Really, it’s up to Bucky now.

“ And it was – what, while you two were…? “

“ Out looking for you, actually, “ Natasha answers without hesitation, sounding more than a little amused. At least one of them is; Steve’s a little anxious, unsure what Bucky’s going to decide.

“ Yeah? Huh, guess that makes me some kinda matchmaker then. “

Bucky chuckles under his breath, and Steve can’t help but roll his eyes.

“ Well I’m not paying you for it, if that’s what you’re after. “

The joke leaves him so easily, and it hits Steve how _long_ it’s been since they had a chance at something so simple as straightforward banter, back and forth like they used to back when they were younger. And it still feels so natural, so _normal_ to be like this with Bucky, that’s what gets him the most.

“ I’m sure you two can figure something out. You know. Collective intelligence and all. “

Bucky wags his eyebrows ridiculously before swinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the door, and it takes a second for Steve to register that that’s a _yes_ , this is Bucky approving of this, of _them_ , of the _three of them_ together. And sure, they’re going to have to figure out the details, work through exactly _how_ this is going to work – but it can. It could. It will. Steve’s sure of it.

Steve shares a smile with Natasha before he reaches out for her, taking her hand and heading after Bucky, not entirely sure where this is going to go or if this is going to work, but knowing that he wants to find out.

\--

Steve’s always the last to fall asleep, somehow. He’s not sure why, none of them are, but he has a theory that it’s just.., instinct. A need to make sure Bucky and Natasha are safe, warm, happy. To know they’re both settled, that they’re both curled up so comfortably beside him, even if he knows they won’t sleep through the night – they’re still here, they’re still falling asleep. And in that moment, that’s all that matters.

Raising his head, Steve’s eyes travel over the two bodies settled so close together, so close to him. At first it had been strange, trying to figure out the logistics of it. Making sure Bucky had the space he needed, keeping him comfortable and letting him figure it out himself. That habit was short-lived, because Bucky’d squirmed as close to Steve as possible that first night and started whining, refusing to stop until Natasha had curled up behind him.

Ever since then, they’ve fallen asleep in some sort of variation of that. All pressed together, familiar, finding a rhythm and learning the ways their bodies all fit together. And it’s not ideal yet – Bucky still wakes up in a panic too many times, Natasha still has nights where it takes hours of gentle coaxing and murmurs from the both of them to guide her to sleep. And Steve knows he has his own troubles; it had taken a week for him to break the habit of waking up from a nightmare and fleeing to the gym, to adjust to the fact that now he has not just one, but _two_ people who are more than willing to calm him, to steady him, to help him fall back to sleep or to stay awake with him when he can’t.

No, it’s not exactly ideal. It’s not as settled as it could be. But for Steve, it’s _perfect_.

Draping an arm over the both of them, nuzzling the back of Bucky’s neck, his chest fitted to Bucky’s back while Natasha curls up in Bucky’s arms, not caring in the slightest that one of them will probably wake up in a few hours anyway, this is what Steve calls perfect.


End file.
